How a Scot Surrenders to a Lady

by Julie Johnstone

  Alex tilted his head toward Cameron. “The two of them are oddly matched in their superior skills in dagger throwing and archery.” Alex shrugged. “I told her I’d work with her tomorrow again, but in truth, the lass taught me a few things today. To me, it seems wiser if ye work with her, Cameron. Ye’re the only one who could do anything to improve her already impressive skills.”

  “I think that’s an outstanding idea,” Marion agreed, her gaze landing on Alex and then on Cameron.

  “I dunnae,” Lachlan said. His words earned him a poke in the side from Bridgette.

  “I agree with Marion,” Bridgette said. “If the goal is to ensure she has the skills to defend herself in the hunt for the killers, don’t ye want to work with her yerself, Cameron, and give her the best chance of survival?”

  He did want to work with her—too damn much—which was why he should not, but Bridgette and Alex had good points. By choosing to stay away from her, he could possibly put her at a disadvantage, not to mention that he had to prove to himself and his brothers that he had the self-control to train her without falling under her spell. “I’ll work with her tomorrow.”

  “Excellent,” Alex said. “I’ll train with ye, Lachlan, if ye can abide it?”

  “We can all train together,” Lachlan said, giving Cameron a stern look.

  Cameron’s felt his anger rising. His brother clearly thought him weak. “I dunnae need ye watching over me as I train,” he bit out, shoving away from the table just as music started to fill the great hall.

  Tables were quickly moved to the sides to make room for dancing, and Cameron, seeing Angus, Neil, and Neil’s wife standing with Alanna at the wall by the door, made his way to them. He greeted the others, then asked Alanna, “How fares Rory Mac today?”

  “Better,” she said with a grin. “He’s awake, alert, and grouchy,” she finished, chuckling.

  Cameron smiled. “Back to his old self!”

  Alanna snorted. “Aye and nay.”

  “What do ye mean nay?” Cameron asked, concerned.

  Alanna glanced out at the crowd of people dancing. When her gaze seemed to fasten upon someone, Cameron searched out who she was staring at—Sorcha. “Alex’s lass came to visit Rory Mac today.”

  “Sorcha is nae Alex’s lass,” Cameron growled.

  Alanna smirked. “Then why is she wearing his plaid?”

  “She was cold,” he snapped. “What did she want with Rory Mac?”

  Alanna’s face immediately softened, and regret flittered across it. “She wanted to see if he was improving, and she wanted to repent for any hand she may have had in his injuries.”

  Cameron snapped his jaw shut when he felt himself gaping. “Did she recall something that made her believe she had a part in the attack?” Just asking the question made his chest ache.

  When Alanna shook her head, he barely suppressed a sigh of relief. “Nay. She dunnae recall more than her name, but Rory Mac recalled something about her.”

  “What?” he demanded, his need to know hitting him with the force of a tempest.

  “She turned back from fleeing to save him,” Alanna announced.

  “What? What say ye?”

  “Rory Mac says he saw her fleeing on her horse, but she turned around.” Alanna’s eyes had grown wide, as if her husband’s memory still surprised her. “Rory Mac said she may have been looking to see if any of ye were chasing her, or in light of her actions, it’s more likely she turned to see if any of the men who must have taken her were chasing her.” Alanna cocked her head, a thoughtful expression on her face. “He says when she saw him losing the battle with the enemy, she galloped back to him and struck the man he was battling in the arm with a dagger, just as the man hit Rory Mac. He’d meant to take Rory Mac’s head, nae slice his gut!”

  “God’s teeth,” Cameron whispered, his gaze drawn back to Sorcha. Broch twirled her in a fast circle, and she had her head thrown back and a grin on her lips. Cameron wanted to go to her, sweep her into his arms, and kiss her as he had done yesterday.

  “I’m ashamed I judged her so,” Alanna murmured. “I told her so, and she was verra gracious. Told me if she had been in my place she would have responded the same way. She is nae an enemy of mine.”

  “Nor of mine,” Cameron said, though the words were hard to get out as his throat had tightened with emotion from the simple act of looking at her. The longer he watched her, the greater the desire grew, until he feared he was losing his grip on his control. “I bid ye good evening,” he said abruptly. He turned and pushed his way through the crowd, not slowing until he was out the door and striding through the hall.

  He was not even certain where he was going until he was halfway down the seagate stairs to the water. When he reached the shore, he discovered Lillianna carrying two buckets of water in each hand. She quickly set them down as she saw him, put her hands on her hips, and pouted at him. “Why have ye nae come to my bed since returning from the king’s mission?”

  “I’m sorry, lass,” he replied. He and Lillianna had been enjoying each other’s favors for the last several years. He had made it clear long ago that he didn’t want marriage, however, and she had said she was fine with that. She had been forced to wed very young to a man who had treated her cruelly. He was dead now, and she’d told Cameron she had no interest in marrying ever again, so it had been the perfect agreement.

  She slid between the buckets to press her body against his. “Help me deliver these buckets to the kitchen, and then I’ll help ease the stress I see on yer face.”

  He should take her offer. If he did, perchance he could get Sorcha out of his mind. Yet he found himself shaking his head. “I’m happy to help ye with the buckets, lass, but I’m in need of an ice-cold swim.” It was the only thing that would extinguish the searing yearning that Sorcha had lit in him. Kissing Lillianna would not help that. Though the lass was pretty, and he had surely desired her not long ago, he felt nothing now as he looked at her, except a festering wish to hold Sorcha, kiss her sweet mouth, caress her beautiful body, and help her unlock the secrets of her memories.

  “Cameron!” Lillianna snapped, making him aware that he’d been standing there like a clot-heid. “Did ye hear what I said?”

  “Nay, lass. I’m sorry.”

  Her pout grew more pronounced, but then her tongue darted out to lick her lips as she gave him a smoldering look. “I said I’ll be more than happy to swim with ye…naked.”

  “I dunnae believe I’ll be taking ye up on the offer tonight. Shall we?” he asked quickly and picked up the buckets before she could offer any more.

  She gave him a wicked smile before turning and climbing the steps. Lillianna was a very shapely woman, and she purposely swayed her hips in a manner he knew was meant to entice him. And it would have done exactly that if the damned recesses of his mind weren’t filled with thoughts of Sorcha, but her image kept popping into his head. He recalled her plain and purposeful stride that didn’t have even a hint of provocativeness it in, as if enticing a man was the very last thing she would ever think to do. Could he make her wish to entice him?

  Devil take it! His lack of control over his own thoughts was appalling.

  When they reached the courtyard, Lillianna turned around and launched herself at him so quickly that all he had time to do was drop the buckets in order to ensure they both did not fall backward. Just as his hands encircled her waist to keep her on her feet, she twined her fingers in his hair and crushed her mouth to his. As he broke the kiss to set her away, he was instantly aware that they were not alone.

  He turned his head to the right and stormy-gray eyes met his. Sorcha stared at him, her lips parted. Beside her, Broch chuckled and said, “I’d like to tell ye that ye dunnae often see such displays around Dunvegan, but when Cameron is afoot and a beautiful lass is near—” Broch winked at Lillianna “—ye’ll see such things as ye just saw. But dunnae ye fret, lass,” he said, slinging his arm around Sorcha and drawing her firmly to his side. “I’ll make
sure to keep ye safe from Cameron’s advances.”

  A wave of anger and jealousy rolled over Cameron, but he choked it down with a forceful swallow and bared his teeth in an attempt at a smile. But judging from the way Broch’s gaze widened, as did Sorcha’s, he was certain he looked more ferocious than friendly. He wanted to close the distance between himself and Broch and pummel the man into the dirt for daring to touch Sorcha. It was that desperate desire that propelled him to pick up the buckets for Lillianna once more, which was preferable to leaving her standing alone in the courtyard after launching herself at him.

  “If ye’ll excuse us,” he said in the general direction of Sorcha and Broch while turning his gaze on Lillianna.

  She seemed astonished that he was still accompanying her to the kitchens with the buckets. He followed Lillianna as she walked past Sorcha, intentionally keeping his focus on Lillianna’s backside. She worked her hips so hard, he wouldn’t doubt if the lass was sore the next day from her attempt to be seductive. Unfortunately for her, the attempt was lost on him. His lust was now apparently only for lasses with blond hair and gray eyes who could well destroy him just by being themselves.

  By the time he reached the kitchens with Lillianna he knew two things for certain: he had to make sure Lillianna understood he no longer wanted to dally with her, and he had to keep contact with Sorcha to a minimum when they trained. One touch too long of his body to hers and he feared his control would not hold.

  Ten

  When Sorcha entered her bedchamber, Marion and Bridgette sprang up from her bed and rushed over to her. “Well?” they demanded in unison before the door was firmly shut behind Sorcha. She pressed a quick finger to her lips to quiet the women, both of whom she still could hardly believe were being so kind to her. Marion had been correct about Bridgette. Once they had found her, and Marion had told her of Eolande’s prophecy for Cameron and Sorcha—and of Cameron kissing Sorcha—Bridgette had been eager to help, claiming rather boastfully that she had immediately sensed an attraction between Sorcha and Cameron.

  “Shh,” Sorcha hushed the women as they giggled like children rather than the wives and mothers they were. She pressed her ear to the door and stilled, listening to Broch’s retreating footsteps. When she could hear no more of him in the passageway, she turned slowly to Marion and Bridgette, who were staring at her with expectant faces. She knew they’d want to hear what had happened with Cameron, but she could hardly think past seeing him kissing that woman in the courtyard. It stole her ability to form a proper sentence, making her angry and sad at once.

  “Did it work?” Marion asked, interrupting Sorcha’s thoughts.

  “Of course it worked,” Bridgette crowed, and Sorcha bit her lip on contradicting her. “I dunnae ever set a woman on a wrong path to catching a man, now do I?” Bridgette’s green gaze glowed as she plunked her hands on her hips and gave her friend a challenging look.

  Marion chuckled. “Well, you did aid me with Iain, I suppose.”

  “Ye suppose?” Bridgette gasped. “The two of ye would nae be happily married if nae for me,” she said with a grin.

  “I would not go that far,” Marion responded. “We were already married when I met you! Though you did have a hand in making us happy.” Marion laughed at Bridgette’s outraged look, and quickly added, “But I would say that Graham and Isobel are only married because you taught her how to seduce him.”

  Bridgette nodded with a triumphant look on her face, then turned her gaze to Sorcha once more. “Now that we have established ye can make Cameron jealous—I saw him glaring daggers at Broch and poor Alex in the great hall—I can teach ye how to entice him.”

  She needed to stop Bridgette and tell her about the kiss she’d just witnessed. “Aye, but—”

  “It will only be a matter of time after that until he forgets Eolande’s prophecy and gives in to his yearning for ye,” Bridgette exclaimed. “Ye’ll be a quick learner. That was verra smart of ye to ask Broch to accompany ye into the courtyard. Did ye encounter Cameron?”

  Sorcha blew out a long breath. “Aye. I encountered him, to be sure. He—”

  “Was Broch with ye?” Bridgette interrupted.

  “Aye. He insisted on accompanying me and would nae leave me be.” She frowned, recalling the dance that Marion and Bridgette had persuaded her to accept from Broch. He had made her laugh, for certain, but he did not stir attraction in her, and she feared she had led him on. And for what purpose? Cameron was kissing other women. Agitated, she twined a strand of hair around her finger. “I dunnae believe it was wise for me to dance with Broch. I wish only to be his friend, and I fear he now thinks I wish for more.”

  “Bah,” Bridgette said. “Ye told him ye did nae wish his attention. And I watched ye dance. Ye kept a respectable distance, and when he moved his hand too low, ye stepped away. If he refuses to accept that ye wish only to be friends, ye are nae to blame.”

  “Perchance nae,” Sorcha replied, unsure she totally believed that. “But I’ll nae be accepting another dance from him, and if he demands to walk me anywhere else, I’m going to have to tell him in a less gentle way that I dunnae desire him.”

  Bridgette snorted. “Ye’ll need to clobber him over the head with a tree trunk. The man is used to lasses falling at his feet, and ye nae wishing to fall presents an irresistible challenge for him, I’m certain.”

  “Enough about Broch,” Sorcha said firmly. “The plot to make Cameron jealous did nae work. I just saw him outside kissing a lass with long, curly, brown hair.”

  “Lillianna,” Bridgette fairly spat out.

  “Be kind,” Marion chastised.

  “I dunnae see why I must. That one is purposeful trouble. She and Cameron have been tumbling in the hay for years, her claiming that she dunnae want anything from him and him being led by an area other than his brain. Tell us exactly what ye saw,” Bridgette demanded.

  “Well,” Sorcha started, hoping she didn’t sound as jealous as she felt. “I did see her throw herself at him—”

  “Aha!” Bridgette crowed. “I felt certain that’s how it came about.”

  Hope sparked in Sorcha, but was if foolish hope? “However,” she said firmly, “it took him quite some time to untangle himself from her. He may have wanted the kiss.” The notion that he would kiss her with such abandon and then eagerly kiss Lillianna with passion later made Sorcha ill.

  Bridgette shook her head. “It’s more probable that she had her talons good and secure into him. What did ye do?”

  “Honestly, I believe I gaped.”

  “What did Broch do?” Marion asked.

  “He slung his arm around me in a most annoying manner. I dug my heel into his toe as discreetly as I could, but the man just kept his arm there.”

  “And how did Cameron look?” Bridgette inquired, though Marion appeared just as eager to know.

  “I can hardly say,” Sorcha mumbled. “It was as if a mask had been slid over his features. I could have been a window that he was looking through.”

  “Oh, och!” Bridgette crooned. “That’s what the MacLeod brothers all do when they are truly bothered by something.”

  “It’s true,” Marion added. “Cameron is very much like his brothers, though I fear he thinks of himself as inferior. As the youngest, their father was hardest on him. Iain feels partly to blame as he says they all coddled him, which made their father angry and fearful that he’d become soft. He wanted only fierce warriors for sons.”

  “It’s getting late,” Bridgette said with a yawn. “And I dunnae wish to be so tired when I join my husband in bed that I kinnae enjoy him, so if ye wish me to give ye some pointers on seducing Cameron tomorrow…”

  “I dunnae ken that I do now,” Sorcha admitted. “If we are truly meant to be, won’t it just happen?”

  Bridgette shrugged. “It did happen that way with Lachlan and me, in spite of Eolande’s foreboding prophecy of our love.”

  Mention of the prophecy had Sorcha twisting her hands. “Dunnae ye fear hel
ping me will bring about something horrible?”

  “I dunnae,” Bridgette said with finality. “If I had allowed Eolande’s prophecy to make my choices for me, I would nae be happily married, though I have to confess it was Lachlan, nae me, who was first to snub the foretelling. He refused to live without me, and it was that choice and his bravery that enabled us to have a future together.” Bridgette took Sorcha’s hand in hers and squeezed. “I believe it is exactly as Eolande always says: she can only foretell the future she sees up to the point she touches us, and after that, it is our choices that truly define how the future will play out.”

  Suddenly, a new idea had Sorcha gasping. “I should visit the seer! She has nae foretold my future by touching me! Only Cameron’s. Perchance I will hear something that will guide me in what to do.”

  Marion and Bridgette exchanged a long look before Marion spoke. “Cameron will not like it.”

  “He’ll most likely forbid ye going,” Bridgette added, then smirked. “Of course, ye could avoid that.”

  Sorcha smiled. “Aye, if I go in secret.”

  Both women nodded. “If ye did so, ye would need to take a warrior to help guard ye, however. There is a man out there still lurking and likely wanting to kill ye.”

  “Aye, I’ve nae forgotten,” Sorcha muttered.

  “I’ll join ye,” Bridgette declared.

  Sorcha startled. “Ye’d do that for me?”

  “For ye, for Cameron, to obliterate another of Eolande’s prophecies. I vow that seer-fairy dislikes love.”

  “Well,” Marion pronounced, “the two of you cannot go on an adventure like this without me!”

  “Iain will be furious if he finds out ye went to the Fairy Pools with an enemy about,” Bridgette said.

  Marion scowled at Bridgette. “I don’t intend him to find out, but lucky for me, if he does, I know how to cool that Scot’s temper.”

  “Will Lachlan nae be furious with ye for going to the Fairy Pools with an enemy about?” Sorcha asked Bridgette.